I Lied My Face Off
by AskItOfMe
Summary: A series of vignettes based on the song I Lied My Face Off by Alkaline Trio... Takes place after Asylum...
1. I Lied My Face Off

"Well, I Lied My Face Off, When I Said I Would Be Okay..." 

"Do we need to talk about this?" Sam asked him as they started getting into the car. Dean winced as he agitated the salt still lodged in his chest. He couldn't wait to get out of this fucking town and find the nearest motel so that he could wash the shit out of his chest. He gritted his teeth a little, thinking about how much it was going to sting.

"Of course not." Dean said, lying his face off as he started the car and waited for Sam to get in. He didn't say another word as they drove away from the asylum. What else was there to say to your little brother, and only family at the moment, who just pumped your chest full of rock salt and then pulled the trigger of a pistol that was aimed at your head? Not much. Well, not much that Dean cared to say.

After about an hour, he darted a glance over at Sam who was staring out the window. Dean shook his head from side to side and winced as pain shot up his neck from his chest. He sighed softly to himself as he turned his attention back to the road. He hated lying to Sam, but he'd lied his face off to Sam practically everyday since Sam turned 16.

Dean remembered that day very well. It was the day that something had changed in their relationship. Before that day, Sam had told him everything - and he'd told Sam everything. But everything changed after Dean made the foolish mistake of kissing Sam that night as they lay in their sleeping bags staring up at the stars. They had been talking about life and love, and the only thing Dean could think about had been the way Sam's hair shimmered in the light from the dying fire. Their dad was asleep inside the tent, passed out after having too much to drink. And after about five minutes of Sam talking and Dean not hearing a word, because he'd been staring at his little brothers full lips, Sam had asked him what he was looking out. And he'd replied by leaning down and brushing his lips against Sam's. He'd let his lips linger there for a few seconds, his eyes shut tightly, and then he'd pulled away and opened his eyes to look down into Sam's own hazel eyes. Sam's eyes had been full of confusion, hurt, and something else that Dean had never been able to identify. Neither of them said a word as Sam looked away and then rolled over, his back facing Dean. Dean had sighed heavily and laid down on his back looking up the stars. He didn't even remember falling asleep. The next night, after their father had passed out in the motel room next to theirs, Sam brought it up.

"What was that all about last night?" Sam had asked in a neutral tone.

"What was what about?" Dean asked innocently as he shrugged his shoulders a little bit. His mind was racing with an excuse to explain away his behavior. After all, it might be normal for a guy to kiss a guy now a days, but Dean was pretty sure it was pretty illegal to kiss your little brother.

"You know what I mean Dean. Why'd you kiss me last night?" Sam asked, his voice sounding a little strained as he forced himself to say the last part. Dean sighed heavily.

"I just got carried away with my own thoughts. I was thinking about Jenna and how much I missed kissing her. So, when you broke me from my thoughts, my first reaction was to kiss." He said calmly as he lied his face off, to the one person he'd always been completely honest with his whole life. Sam looked at him skeptically for a few seconds, but to Dean they had felt like an eternity, and then he looked away. Dean had slumped down in his bed, mentally yelling at himself for screwing things up like he had. The next time they'd camped out, Sam had placed his sleeping bag on the other side of the fire.

Dean snapped back to the present as the car behind him honked their horn at him. Sam glanced at him nervously. "You ok man? You need me to drive?" His voice shaking slightly as he spoke to Dean for the first time since they'd left the asylum.

"Nah, I'm okay." Dean said, lying his face off once more. After the first few times, it kind of grew into a habit. A habit that Dean hated with every fiber of his being, but one that he wasn't about to kick. As he popped in a STYX cassette, he thought about the lie he'd told that had hurt the most. It had been the night that Sam had told him and his father that he was going away to college.

"I got a full ride to Stanford for all four years. And I can work to pay for my books and food. Neither of you will have to worry about anything. And I won't hold you back when you go hunting. We all know that I'm not as skilled as the two of you. It's just something I never excelled at." Sam had stated, the words rushing out of his mouth. The fear evident in his tone and his posture.

Dean had felt like the wind had been knocked out of him, and his eyesight had gone black for a few moments. He'd shut his eyes tightly for a few seconds, trying to calm himself down, and then he'd slowly opened it. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he'd never been in so much pain in his whole life. He had been sure that his father would scream and yell and tell Sam how foolish he was. And then, Sam wouldn't leave. But, Dean felt like he'd been sucker punched when his father had finally replied.

"Fine, but if you walk out that door and leave. Don't ever bother coming back." Their father had said, and then he'd cast a glare at Sam and left. All Dean could do was sit and stare at Sam.

"Aren't you going to say something?" Sam asked his voice even shakier than it had been a few minutes ago.

"Nah, I'm okay." Dean had said, lying his face off once again. Then he'd gotten up and walked over to Sam. "You gotta do what you gotta do." He'd said as he'd patted Sam on the shoulder and then walked out of the room. And he hadn't seen or spoke to Sam again until that night that he'd shown up on Sam's doorstep.

"Hey, there's a motel at the next exit." Sam said, a little enthusiastically, snapping Dean out of his reprieve once again.

"A good hot shower, and some sleep, and I'll be okay..." Dean said smiling as an image of his face melting away flashed through his mind. Really, how many times could he lie his face off to Sam, and expect to see that same face in the mirror the next time he looked?

Dean just nodded, stared forward at the cold asphalt ahead, and pushed his foot down on the gas...


	2. These Scars Are Permanent

"These Cuts Run Deep, These Scars Are Permanent... And Always On Display..." 

Sam cursed at himself lightly as he watched his brother disappear into the bathroom. He'd really fucked things up this time. It's one thing to walk away from the only person you've ever really loved, and who loves you - just not in the same way. But it's another to try and shoot that same person. You can always beg for them to take to you back, when you leave. What the hell would Sam have done if that gun had been loaded? Not that it mattered much, it was all pretty much the same. He'd pulled the trigger, that's all that mattered. Sam lay down on the bed closest to the wall on his stomach and gathered the pillow to himself, using it to prop himself up so he could stare at the headboard. He hadn't meant to fall asleep, but somewhere between guessing where one scratch in the headboard came from, to the next, he'd fallen asleep.

"Oh god Sammy. Are you alright?" Dean asked as he rushed to his brother's side. Sam had just been thrown through a plated glass window by a particularly vicious poltergeist.

Sam tried to lean up and prop himself up on his elbow, but only ended up crying out in pain. A piece of the glass was now protruding from his left shoulder. "God dammit this hurts." Sam hissed out between his teeth.

"Here, let me take it out." Dean said and then carefully wrapped his fingers around the glass and started to pull. He stopped when he heard the blood curdling scream that escaped Sam's lips.

"I think it went all the way through." Sam said as he gasped, trying to return his breathing rate to normal. He knew that the faster he was breathing, the faster his body was pumping blood out of his body. And Sam wasn't sure how much blood he had lost, but it couldn't be a good sign that his vision was starting to turn black.

The next thing Sam remembered was waking up on a very uncomfortable bed. He tried to lean up, and hissed slightly at the pain that shot through his now bandaged shoulder. Dean chose that moment to walk into the room, sipping a cup of coffee.

"Hey you." Dean said with a grin on his face. "Wasn't sure how long you'd be out." He said as he came and sat down on the edge of Sam's bed.

"How long was I out for?" Sam asked as he realized that he felt drugged, he looked up questioningly at Dean.

"We had to give you a couple of doses of Morphine, cause of the blood loss, your body was going into shock." Dean explained as he pushed back a few strands of hair that were hanging down in Sam's face. Sam's eyes flickered shut for a moment before he opened them quickly and looked away. Dean removed his hand and cleared his throat. "You've been out for five days now." Dean said nonchalantly.

"Where's dad at?" Sam asked as he looked around, not seeing any evidence that their father was there.

"There was a job in two towns over, and he went ahead to do it. He'll be back tonight." Dean said nonchalantly. And Sam didn't have to ask to know that Dean had stayed by his bedside the entire time.

"Dude, it's gonna leave a nasty scar." Sam said as he glanced at his bandaged shoulder.

"Hey no worries, chicks dig scars." Dean said grinning and Sam just smiled at Dean and leaned his head back against the headboard.

"Sam?" Dean asked as he made his way out of the bathroom, causing Sam to stir from his light sleep. Sam rolled over and stretched.

"Yeah?" Sam asked over a yawn.

"Oh, you were asleep? I'm sorry. I didn't know." Dean said as he turned out the bathroom light.

"Nah, it's ok. I was just thinking about that poltergeist that gave me the scar in my shoulder. It never did fade, like most of the others..." Sam said shrugging slightly.

Dean nodded. "Yeah, we got a bunch of those. But I was right about chicks digging scars, wasn't I?" Dean grinned, and suddenly Sam remembered the new set of scars that Dean was sure to have from the rock salt. He stood up quickly and walked over to Dean, he could barely see his brother's chest in the moonlight from the windows, so he placed his hand gently on Dean's chest. He ran his fingers gingerly up and down Dean's chest, memorizing each and every little wound. He looked up into Dean's eyes and saw the same hurt expression he'd seen the day he'd told him and their father that he was going to Stanford.

"You gotta do what you gotta do." Dean had simply said and then patted him on the shoulder and walked away. Sam had stood in the middle of the room dumbfounded for god only knows how long. And then he'd moved, strictly on automatic, to his room and shut the door. He'd slid down the length of his door and brought his knees up to his chest. Then he'd started crying.

He had pretty much more or less, expected the reaction he had gotten from his father. But he had expected Dean to put up some kind of fight. To tell Sam that he was foolish and that he belonged with him. And their dad, of course. To scream and yell at him until they were both crying and holding each other.

But none of that had ever happened. And that's when Sam had known that he'd made the right decision to go to Stanford. When Dean had kissed him that night over two years ago, Sam had already had feelings for Dean. But he knew they were wrong, and he had always had it in his head that if he'd told Dean how he felt, Dean would be the strong one. Dean was the one who would remind him just how wrong it was. Dean wasn't supposed to be the one kissing him. And Dean especially wasn't supposed to be the one who had all but said that he wanted what Sam wanted. Even though Dean would never know that Sam had wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around Dean and deepen the kiss. And over the last two years, things had changed. And Sam had started to think that maybe that night by the campfire had been a fluke. And that even if Sam could get past them being brothers that it was apparent that Dean couldn't. And Dean had proved that tonight by showing that he didn't love Sam anymore than he had to. And that was the kind of scar that never went away.

Sam had sat there crying until he hadn't had anymore tears to cry. Then he had gotten up off the floor and threw everything he owned into one duffel bag and left his family, his brother behind him. What reasons were there to stay?

"Sam?" Dean asked, his voice low and husky as it snapped Sam back into reality. Sam could see Dean swallow hard and lick his lips in the darkness of the room. Sam took a deep breath and ran his hand up Dean's chest and let it move to lie against the back of Dean's neck and he took a step closer to his brother. He looked deep into Dean's eyes, and Sam could almost swear that he saw fear there. It took Sam a second to realize what Dean was afraid of. So to answer Dean's unspoken question, he leaned in and gently brushed his lips against Dean's.


End file.
